John Talbott's Paris

La Table d'Adrien in the 2nd - What a rentrée!

7.0 La Table d'Adrien, 9, rue Volney in the 2nd, 01.42.61.00.44 has a 50 E menu with wine included and is only open for lunch, by reservation.

Every once in a while, a meal is so surprising and so wonderful that you just are bursting to tell everyone about it, in a dozen different ways.  I arrived in Paris today after 5 weeks away, traipsing through Manhattan's museums, motoring through New England, walking in the mountains of Colorado and boating/hiking/limping in and around the coves of the central Maine coast.  The food, while often interesting (eg at Jean Georges new presentation in NY), retro (at a classic local pub/pizzeria in New Jersey) and just plain great local product (in Maine) left me unprepared for today.

I arrived on good old Flight #914 from Dulles and while jet-lagged bigtime, was ready to hit the ground running (and that, even though I narrowly avoided the real thing with the 82nd Airborne during Viet Nam) I knew how to do.  But where to go?  I had this list of 25 possibilities gathered from intelligence garnered during the vacances, but most places were rumored or suggested by one source without confirmation from the rating boys.

So, almost by hazard, I picked the Table d'Adrien in the 2nd and called at 11:30 AM to reserve.
He: Bonjour, la Table d'Adrien.
Me: (trans) Good day. I'd like to reserve a table for one for 12:30.
He: Do you know us? 
Me: (Oh, oh) Not at all.
He: We're a club.
Me: Ahhhhhh.
He: How did you learn about us?
Me: Ahhhh, I saw the review in Alain Fusion's lesrestos.com.
He: (much later) I don't do the internet, I'll ask my son.
Me: Oh
He: But we can accommodate occasional guests (I think = riff-raff).
Me: Is that possible today?
He: But of course, in what name?
Me: Talbott
He: Ah, a great wine.
Me: Which, the Bordeaux red or California white?
He: Mumble, mumble.  Til then.

So I arrive, quickly scope the menu outside, am offered one of the last two tables and install myself.  All business-folk, looks pretty serious.

Immediately a glass of crisp white wine is poured (ah, ha, just like Mon Viel Ami, conclusion : they've got class).  Then a dish of incredibly spicy, delicious thickly sliced and coarsely diced sausage appears. 

Me: This is great.
He: Nah, it's Spanish, just wait.

Then no presentation of a menu, but he leans over besides me and says into my ear:
He: What would you like for a starter?
Me: Ah, the foie gras (which I'd seen on the menu outside and on the table beside me served both mi-cuit and sautéed) would suit me (not realizing his business card says "Foie Gras Maison").
He: Then do you like fish or meat?
Me: Hummmm. Such as what meat?
He: An entrecote, magret or rognons.
Me: Yes, the rognons.
He: You sure you wouldn't like just a touch of beef?
Me: Why not?
He: Cooked how, saignant?
Me: Oh no, blue.
He: And for wine, a Bordeaux or perhaps.....
Me: Stop right there, the Bordeaux would be perfect.

The foie gras, which he leaned over again to assure me was made here, was superb; perhaps the best sautéed foie gras ever (with a crispy crust and spiced bread that was so sweet it worked better not with but just after and before bites of foie gras) and among the best micuit (equaling that at La Grande Cascade circa 1978, my gold standard).  At this point I could have died and gone to heaven a happy man.

But then came the rognons with a red wine sauce with shallots and chocolate which was incredibly light but the filet of beef was again extraordinary and I polished off what was hardly a small portion cooked blue to perfection.

He: Our desserts are the best part of the meal but first how about some cheese?
Me: (I have no room for either but knew the desserts were on the 50E menu with a first, main and wine and wasn't sure about the cheese which I knew I'd be having some of with my buddy Phyllis tonight).  Just the dessert.

But as he was speaking the order into the dumb-waiter I was struck like Saul on the road to Damascus and an internal voice said "Schmuck, this place is special, it's your first day back in 5 weeks, go for it."

Me: Just a little, after all.
He: And of course a little aged Porto to go with it.
Me: Yessssssssss.

The first was a semi-solid Jura, the second a blue Forme d'Ambert and the third a brie-like Eastern cheese; all served with a salad with a light pine-nut studded dressing.

The desserts were a pear atop chocolate tart, creme caramel (ancien) and apple tart (ancien), the latter of star quality.

Then before I could order coffee a generous pour of Bas Armagnac appeared.  Wow!

Now while I'd been listening to and chatting a bit with both Mr (Adrien) and Mrs (Judite) throughout the meal, when I expressed interest after the meal in some arcane detail, he sat down, and without ignoring the other clients talked with me for a wonderfully long time.  I am not a chat-em-up-kinda-guy, in fact Colette thinks I'm aggressively anti or asocial, and I envy critics like Margaret Kemp who have a great facility at chatting-em-up.  But this was real fun. Meanwhile Madame plunked herself down and started reading my print-out of Fusion's review; "Not bad she said."

At this point I had decided this was certainly the best meal of the summer and perhaps the year, not to mention the price-quality ratio but now comes the caution dear reader.  They comp'd me the meal (and at this point they didn't know who I was).  Now I'm a bear when it comes to mistrusting doctors who say their prescribing practices are unaffected by Big Pharma sponsored golf weekends and steak dinners at Ruths Chris because the literature shows the opposite; and I'm equally skeptical that critics on the take write the same reviews that the disguised Bruni's and Greene's do.

So I guess you'll just have to assume that my judgment may have been influenced.

But, in any case, it was sure a hellofa meal.

PS As a reminder, my scale is as follows (subject to fickleness and change):
10 - Giradet in the old days.
9 - Ducasse, Bocuse, Loiseau in their prime
8 - Ze Kitchen Galerie now
7- Bistro Cote Mer at its flowering best and Clocher Pereire now
6 - Repaire de Cartouche
5 - Le Cafe qui Parle
4 - 2 Pièces Cuisine, a neighborhood place
3 - Le Truc, ditto
2 - Sale + Pepe, double ditto
1 - le Nord-Sud, triple ditto
0 - Auguste, The Place
Ø- Iode

Bistro Brasserie Resto Café Bar: What’s in a Name - IV?

As I mentioned before, there’s a “new” eating establishment nearby my home that has an awning outside proclaimed it to be La Timbale - Brasserie Bistro Restaurant Café Bar. 

In prior essays I’ve discussed the differences between and among and the evolution of brasseries and bistrots and zincs, bistrots and bars and the subcategories of bistrots and restos.  Let’s delve a bit more into other definitions. 

Again going back to my early days in France in the ‘50’s, there were a limited number of types of places in which to eat; Gastronomic temples (La Tour d’Argent), Restaurants (Lucas-Carton), Brasseries (Lipp), Bistrots (Allard) and corner bar/cafes (often recognizable more by their beer-label awnings than names).  Since then, however, all sorts of new types have arisen. 

In no particular order they include: 

Tea Salons, the most well-known of which is probably Mariages Freres serving a few light plates in addition to infusions. 

Wine bars, for example, Les Papilles, with racks of wine on the wall from which to choose and a few dishes on a blackboard or plates of cheese and/or charcuterie. 

Fish bars, like that at l’Ecailler de Bistro, where one can stand and have a few bivalves and a glassa. 

Fish bistrots, like the Bistro du Dome, with a full array of bivalves, fish, desserts and wines. 

Gastro-bistrots, like the Americans fave La Regalade, which even with Bruno Doucet replacing M. Camdeborde, retains its blend of the gastromonic and bistrotish and serves everything from terrines to duck to hearty desserts. 

Neo-bistrots, which some people think are merely the small places opened by big chefs (eg Chez Michel) but others assess as edgier, newer, more daring (l’Ourcine). 

Neo-troquets, that represent the evolution of the corner/neighborhood bar to the moderately fancy place like Le Troquet. 

Theme restos, that specialize in one ingredient (Pomze, Rouge, Coco & Co), one or two tricks (soups and salads) or one truc (Dans le Noir). 

Ethnic restos (which are much more than your father’s Viet namese or N. African or Italian) whose ethnicity spans the globe. 

American bars, which sure don’t look “American” to me, but then bistrots in Alabama don’t resemble their French namesakes either. 

Auberges, which have evolved from the actual widebeamed wood décor to faux farms. 

Chez’s and Ami’s which were once (one of my French colleagues informed me) cheap places – try that at Chez Pauline or l’Ami Louis. 

Fusion places, which started largely as Japanese-French ones, as in Carte Postale, but have blossomed everywhichway. 

So back to my theme Bistro Brasserie Resto Café Bar: What’s in a Name?  We’ve gone in some 55 years from a relatively simple palette to a complex kaleidoscope of color, and like so many other cosmopolitan cities, you can get pretty much what you want, albeit not always when you want it. 

My favorites from the above remain:

Les Papilles

30 rue Gay Lussac, 5^th (RER: Luxembourg)

T: 01.43.25.20.79

Closed Sunday and Tuesday and Thursday nights

Menu 28.50 €. 

Le Troquet

21 Rue Francois Bonvin, 15^th (Metro: Volontaires)

T; 01.45.66.89.00

Closed Sunday and Monday

Menus: 23 € lunch, 30 € dinner, 37 €. A la carte 45-55 €. 

l’Ecailler du Bistrot

22, rue Paul-Bert, 11th (Metro : Faidherbe-Chaligny)

T: 01 43 72 76 77

Closed Saturday noon and Sunday

A la carte 25-30 €. 
 

Reviews of reviews - The Week of August 18th, 2008

The Week of August 18th, 2008

Tuesday in Le Fooding Julia Sammut wrote about Les Tamaris in Marseille.

Wednesday-Thursday, Jean Claude Ribaut in Le Monde wrote an article on Alain Passard’s apple tart.

Saturday-Sunday in Bonjour Paris Margaret Kemp had a piece on “Alice’s Boudoir Buzz” and John Talbott published an essay “Bistro Brasserie Resto Café Bar: What’s in a Name - III?”

This month's Gourmet was devoted to Paris; a topic on the issue on the eGullet Society website discusses it.

Charlie Trotter Fare on United Airlines #914, Business Class, August 25th, 2008. Oy vey!

I was delightfully upgraded to Business Class on my biweekly flight to & fro Paris-Dulles Monday and thought "Why not write about the food?"  Stupid me.

Sure, I got two free gins and tonic and onion soup flavored chips in the club and a coup de champagne (of a yuck 4 quality) on boarding but from then on it was downhill.  I know, I know, there's no Easter Bunny, no free lunch and certainly no edible food on airlines, no matter what class one flies on airlines these days, unless you bring on sushi from the West Coast or roast chicken from Paris or Wolfie's in Denver.

To Begin (as they say on the menu):  Smoked salmon - not totally bad, Genoa salami - pretty good I must say, and crudities - ohmagawd!  Salad with "classic" (how pretentious) caesar - awww come'mon, the lettuce was brown/black at the cuts, the dressing pallid but it was redeemed by very nice tomatoes and red pepper slices.

Then after consultation with the nearly un-understandable Southern-speaking attendantperson (are we allowed to call them stewardesses anymore?) as to the least noxious main - I chose the braised short rib (no s) with a red wine demi-glace (as in half frozen just a while ago); inedible but but but, the so-called potato pancakes was/were one incredibly flavored timbale of potato stuff.

At this point I got engrossed in the most unjustifiedly vilified movie of the year (a sort of Ragtime-Breaking Away-Field of Dreams-1930 screwball comedy melange) - Leatherheads - directed and lead-actored by the man I think is numero uno right now - George Clooney - and sort of thought the airplane cheese Charlie picked was not half-bad, especially with the Santa Duc Cotes de Rhone to sip with it.

By this point, I think the Eli (Zabar I presume) tiramisu was over the top and went beddy-bye.

Now I knew Charlie Trotter (and Jack Kennedy, if the truth be known) and this was no Charlie Trotter.  And when I bring my tres exigeant grandaughter on this flight in March, we're schlepping on real food.

Art along the MA/NH divide: the power and the glory

At the Clark in Williamstown MA, a special exhibition called “Like Breath on Glass:…the art of painting softly” featured the lightly lighted paintings of Whistler, Inness, Dewing and Steichen (painting like he shot) that showed both the glory of a washed out palate and the power of an idea/style that influenced a generation. Up on the hill, their newly-opened Stone Hill Center, after having a special exhibition of Japanese art scheduled to coincide with the opening of the center designed by Japanese architect Tadao Ando, cancelled without much warning, hurriedly moved some Sargents and Homers to fill the space – here the power was to see how such magnificent space should have been used and the glory in how 2nd rate works reminded one of great artists’ 1st rate ones.

A museum, really unknown by me until today was the Currier in Manchester NH which has just undergone a massive expansion, renovation. Colette reminds me that it is still a provincial collection and I should judge its holdings no more or less harshly that say the Basel/Bâle or Grenoble collections; however, like my experience with the Portland’s concentration on local artists, I grew quickly tired of the works of New Hampshire and little-known American and hind-litter works of European masters. Quite nice surprises, though, were a 1971 Red Grooms and undated Tiffany painting (complementing lots of Tiffany glass) as well as the spectacular architecture and wonderful cafe in a huge central atrium with mosaics at the entrance whose colors are picked up in the pseudo-mosaic flooring of the basement bathrooms. There are token works by the great ones (Corot for example), over-represented works of others (ie Albers) and some things needing attention (NB curators: that Serra must be restretched). Here then the power was in the architecture, ideas and intent and the glory in some of the gems within. By the way if you go, don’t be fooled by the various addresses it’s listed under: that is, Myrtle, Ash, Prospect – it’s bounded by all.

L'Ordonnance, an archival* review: Is there a doctor in the house?

3.8 NNN* l’Ordonnance, 51, rue Hallé in the 14th, 01.43.27.55.85, closed Saturday lunch and Sundays, 3 courses for 29, two for 23 €. The name means prescription not artillery (that’s ordnance) and I’d read that it was the moral equivalent of a hospital canteen, perhaps in Miam, serving the faculty at the two hospitals nearby (Rochefoucauld + Sainte Anne’s, the psych hospital) so I suggested to a French colleague [who works at the latter] that we hold a planning meeting there.

It has a no-smoking room and we were all alone for 2 hours. My friend indicated that it had been a mediocre resto before, called the Auberge du Petit Tonneau, but had really been spiffed up and the carte indicated one dish called sabodet Bobosse, so I thought the chef had probably spent time in Michel Bossard’s Le Quincy kitchen, a good sign.

We had a pretty good meal; he had cantaloupe with ham and then veal with wild mushrooms which he deemed pretty good; I had a wonderful cassolette of escargots, industrial and wild mushrooms and a terrific demi-melted chunk of cheese followed by a rather banal civet of duck with the identical sauce with wild mushrooms as he did; our shared mashed potatoes suffered two bites.

Our wine (from the Sologne, near from where Quincy comes) was cheap (20 €), fruity and very good with all dishes. But back to the name; it turns out that it’s named not after the nearby hospitals, but after the street it’s on, the rue Hallé (Jean-Noel Hallé was a noted physician of his time who defended Lavoisier, you remember him from Chemistry 1, eh?,) unsuccessfully, alas, before the Convention; he was guillotined in 1794, (now you didn’t recall that did you?),

The bill, oh yah, the bill = 71 € for 2 with two menus, two coffees and one wine.

Should one go? Not if you’re schlepping from the Right Bank; but my friend will be back and I’m telling another friend staying at the nearby Marriott to go.

*Originally published in October 2007

NNN* = If I lived nearby it would tilt to the bigger grade.

Jet Plane and California Dreamin’ but about Paris. An archival * essay.

Oh my, I cannot get the ‘60’s songs out of my head. Between Peter, Paul and Mary’s “Leaving on a Jet Plane” and the Mamas and the Papas’ “California Dreamin’,” I’m in bad shape. Like they said (with a bit of conflating) “All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go…….Oh, California dreamin'….I could leave today….”

But I’m not thinking about California, I’m thinking about Paris. And what am I thinking about? Not museums, not strolling, not shopping nor stopping; nope, about food. I’m surely one troubled Dude, but the instant I set foot in the States, I’m plotting what and where I’m going to eat next time I’m back “home” - in the City of Light and Lights.

Why do I crave confit de canard so much, and garlic potatoes? Why do I need choucroute with extra juniper berries, couscous with tons of harissa and cassoulet with so much goose fat it verges on the obscene.

Will I be able to convince my three eating partners to go back to places next month, like Le Bistral and Ferrandaise and Au Pied du Sacré Coeur, where I ate this month without them. And if I do, will they turn out to be great disappointments, with four of us sharing the judging honors and the necessity to have 12 winners in all 12 dishes?

Am I the only one, or are there other crazed individuals on the planet who keep a Pudlo and #11 Paris map book at their elbow and like forbidden fruit keep looking stuff up? Do other folks keep lists of new places that have just opened, old places that keep on satisfying and places that were just fine in years past, but we never really had time to go back to. And the lists keep changing; open Saturday, open Sunday, closed Monday; near this place, near that one; one so-so review, maybe demote that one. Then there are the unknowns: places changing hands, places about to open, places one hears have been hyped, have bombed, have exploded in a burst of excess.

Problems, problems, problems. So many choices, so little time.

So to keep you occupied until next time, here are three winners found during a cold, cold month:

Le Bistral
80, rue Lemercier, 17th (Metro : La Fourche)
T : 01.42.63.59.61
Closed Sundays and Mondays
Formula at lunch 27 €, menu 30 € (but many 3 € supplements)

La Ferrandaise
8, rue de Vaugirard, 6th (RER: Luxembourg, Metro : St Michel)
T : 01.43.26.36.36
Closed Saturday lunch, Sunday and Monday
Menu at dinner or 3 courses at lunch = 30 €, plus wine running 14-63 €.

Au Pied du Sacré Coeur
85, rue Lamarck, 18th (Metro: Lamarck-Caulincourt)
T : 01.46.06.15.26
Closed Monday lunch
Lunch menus are 9-11 €, at night a la carte is 20-30 €.

*Originally published March 2005.

Reviews of reviews - The Week of Aug 11th, 2008

Monday, Le Fooding's Sylvie Augereau wrote up Le Duo des Lys in Nyons.

Figaro Madame had an article on Anne Fontaine’s new book on Normand food.

This week in l’Express, there was an article by Sylvie Wolff on restaurants in Arles that included: La Chassagnette, Le Bistrot d'à côté, La Charcuterie, La Bodeguita + Chez Bob.

As I’ve noted before, it’s a slow news month, so I’ll list these 10 Hot places in Paris according to Gayot.com: L'Astrance, Le Chacha, Chen -- Soleil d'Est, Le Dali, L'Epigramme, ETC., Fogon Saint-Julien, Gordon Ramsay au Trianon, Jean-Jacques Jouteux 153 Grenelle + Lasserre.

Saturday/Sunday, in Bonjour Paris, John Talbott published an essay on “Bistro Brasserie Resto Café Bar? II"

On Sunday, Edward Lewine had an article in the NYT entitled “Classified Matters” that discussed the debate over St Emilion chateau wine classification.

Bistro Brasserie Resto Café Bar: What’s in a Name - III?

In my neighborhood, a pretty dingy eating establishment has recently undergone a facelift and its new awning outside proclaims it to be La Timbale - Brasserie Bistro Restaurant Café Bar.

“Well which,” demand I to myself of course?

Are you a brasserie, a bistro, a restaurant, a café or a bar? You cannot be all five – or can you?

In prior essays I’ve discussed the differences between, among and evolution of brasseries and bistrots and zincs, bistrots and bars. Here let’s deal with subcategories of bistrots and restaurants.

Francois Simon’s “Croque Notes” in a Saturday-Sunday’s Figaro in 2004 had an article entitled “A New Atlas of Gastronomy,” in which he drew a chart with two axes: Ethnic-Terroir (the “Y” axis = North-South) and Tradition-Futurism (the “X” axis = West-East). The Ducassians and Robuchonistes are smack in the center; ethnic chic chefs are between Ethnic and Tradition; Gourmet Bistros, Micheliners, Old School, Best cook and workers of France and Slow food chefs are between Tradition and Terroir; the “Neo-pures” are between Terroir and Futurism and Singulars, Fooding, Generation C, Schoolchildren food and the Molecular folks between Ethnic and Futurism. He then listed the star chefs in 15 categories, as follows:

Gourmet Bistrots
Yves Camdeborde at Le Comptoir
Thiery Breton at Chez Michel

Ducassians
Didier Elena at Les Crayeres in Reims
Franck Cerutti at Louis XV in Monte Carlo

Ethic chic
Thiou

Fooding
La Famille and soon Chateaubriand under Frederic Peneau and Inaki Aizpitare

Generation C
David Zuddas at Prenois
Pascal Barbot at l’Astrance
Thierry Marx at Cordellian Bage

Old school
Gerard Besson
Paul Bocuse

Best cooks in France
Michel Blanchet in Maison-Lafitte
Jean Bardet in Tours (now closed)

Best workers (MOF) in France
Philippe Legendre at Le Cinq

Micheliners
boring food providers, not named to avoid retaliation

Molecular biologists
Jacques Decoret in Vichy
Marc Veyrat in Megeve

Neo-simplists
Michel Guerard in Eugenie les Bains
Michel Bras at Laguiole

Schoolchildren’s food (kid brothers of “le fooding”)
Refectoire
Transvзrsal

Robuchonistes
Antoine Hernandez at the Atelier Robuchon
Frederic Anton at Pre Catalan

Singular folks
Pierre Gagnaire
Oliver Roellinger in Cancale

Slow foodies
Marco Tonazzi at I Golosi

What can we learn from this? I suspect very little except to see that Simon is a splitter (in nosology jargon) rather than a lumper.

One thing of interest, however, is that one does find bistrots in several categories – Gourmet bistrots, Le Fooding and Schoolchildren’s food – the rest falling under restaurants.

I think we’ve got to plunge on. Next week more variety.

Of all the above I’ve got to admit a fondness for:
Chez Michel
10 rue de Belzunce, 10th (Metro : Gare du Nord)
T : 01 44 53 06 20
Closed Sunday, Monday and all of August.
About 30 € a la carte

Le Repaire de Cartouche - an archival* review.

.....today* [we had a] wonderful Saturday lunch at Le Repaire de Cartouche (featuring a seasonal terrine of wild hare with chocolate, scallops with cabbage, grouse breast wrapped in cabbage with yet another cabbage preparation, piping hot clafoutis and a moelleux of (? apple) vanilla with caramel sauce for a gentle 105 €, (for two (Colette and myself), no bottled water, one bottle of wine and two coffees), no extra charge for expert waitressing by Rodolphe Paquin’s 5-yo daughter)......

*On October 20th, 2007.